


wow frick i dunno what to title this sorry

by hobbitts



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - Punk, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-13
Updated: 2013-07-13
Packaged: 2017-12-19 08:29:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/881652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hobbitts/pseuds/hobbitts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>NERD/PUNK SLEEPOVER FUCK YEEEEEEE</p><p>there is going to be more than one chapter i fucking swear but i need to go to bed before i kill myself from sleep deprivation</p>
            </blockquote>





	wow frick i dunno what to title this sorry

The doorbell rang with a resounding pinGINPIGPINGPINGPING. GoD he really needed to get that fixed - it kept getting stuck. Crowley uncurled himself from the fetal position he had assumed on the couch and put down a book on botany that contained as much information as an average schoolchild’s encyclopedia (and weighed twice as much). He shuffled over to the door, flung it open and was greeted with Aziraphale’s stupid beautiful smarmy face and – oh. he absolutely _reeked_ of cigarettes

“Hey,” said Aziraphale. Crowley took his hand off the doorframe and gave it a pathetic wave. 

“Hi. Um. Do you want to…….?” He opened the door wider and scooted back into the wall so Aziraphale could enter without getting too uncomfortably squished. There was quite a lot of bustling. Bustling is normally a word used to describe what old ladies do in the kitchen when they’re preparing a huge-ass meal. This is exactly the right word to describe what Crowley and Aziraphale were doing. Crowley swung the door shut and followed Aziraphale into the living room, which doubled as a home theatre & dining room & library & greenhouse. Aziraphale brushed a hanging air plant out of his face as he turned to Crowley, who was looking flustered. _Already_. Goddamn. When wasn’t the man embarrassed or fussing or . something.

Crowley made a gesture toward the empty space at Aziraphale’s feet. “You didn’t bring a sleeping bag.”

“I…uh—“

“— _Or_ a change of clothes. Or a toothbrush. Or even your own pillow,” crowley paused and stuck a thoughtful fist under his chin and frowned. “You’ll have to sleep in my bed.”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes. “How terribly inconvenient.”

“Didn’t you read my invitation at ALL? I spent half an hour ~~shading your upper lip~~ working on the floral decorations on the borders of the card and I specifically stated that you should bring your own stuff, especially your toothbrush because dental hygiene is actually very important and bad hygiene is linked to cardiac disease a—“

“Chill, crowley. I forgot. I read your card,” ((he had also slept with it under his pillow and hung it on his wall next to his posters))” honest to God but I… “ Aziraphale booped himself on the temple and made an exploding motion with his hands (which were immaculate. Wow. Was that a new ring on his index finger? It looked good on him. Wow. WoOWOWOWW)-- Crowley gathered himself and stopped staring. Aziraphale was talking again “…really hungry. You got any food?” 

“yes, yes, yeeee…” crowley clenched his hands at his sides and led the way to the kitchen. Plastic bags were heaped onto the counter, one even sitting in the sink because there was no more counter space and also because food. did not. belong. on the floor. – layer of plastic bag separating it or not.

“Did you just go out and…….,” said Aziraphale. He was laughing but not the kind of laughter that makes sounds, the kind of laughter where you blow air out of your nose really fast and your mouth wiggles itself into a smile and you’re smiling but both sides of your mouth are turned down instead of up;; ; 

“I bought it especially for our sleepover,” Crowley twisted his fingers nervously and attempted to plow himself into the fridge to spare himself the embarrassment because it didn’t occur to him just how much food he’d bought until now. It was ridiculous. Really. How had he even managed to fit all that into the tiny trunk of his environmentally friendly hybrid car???? mYsTERIES>>>>>>>>>>>

“yo you should have come dumpster diving with me last week, I picked up more stuff than what you’ve got here. Plus it was _free_.” Aziraphale started rummaging through the shopping and helped himself to one of those jumbo bags of Swedish fish.

“That was Wednesday, Aziraphale,” Crowley followed az’s lead and liberated a box of banana chips from the mountain of plastic. “Wednesday is comic book day, remember?”  
Az snorted. “Yeah. Boy do I know it.remember that one time your car broke down and you called me practically crying and asked for a ride to the comic book store?” Az bit the head off one of the Swedish fish but then he started choking because “and remember how I picked you up on my moped and you threw a fit and literally walked all 20 blocks to the store because I wasn t wearing a helmet? deAR,…….”

The noise of Crowley devouring the banana chips filled the kitchen. curNCH CRUNCHHHHHA CHRUCHA CRUNCHA H GHCURHRHR (a/n ok that was unnecessary sorry)

Crowley put the banaa chips down and made out like he was going to get something else from the grocery bags but just elbowed az in the side instead (az grunted in surprise and almost dropped th e bag of candy). “Helmets are necessary safety precautions.”

Crowley grabbed a spiral notebook from where it was resting behind the sink. He flipped to the second page and pinched his glasses up onto the bridge of his nose. “Okay, so I have everything scheduled out. We play video games until 8:30, then I added a five minute bathroom and stretch break,” crowley paused and looked at Aziraphale very seriously, “you could form blood clots from sitting in one place too long.” He then went back to the notebook. “8:35 to 9:15 we watch an episode of kitchen nightmares or. or I also have breaking bad on dvd if you want to watch that… then 9:15 to 10:00 is …” 

Crowley’s cheek s turned a deep shade of pink. Aziraphale put the bag of Swedish fish down expectantly. 

“ninefifteentilltenisbondingtime,” said crowley very fast and then snapped the notebook shut and accidentally dropped it on the floor. “Butterfingers!” cursed crowley. 

-

Crowley tried playing portal co-op with az but it ended up being a disaster as Aziraphale couldn’t even figure out how to walk much less think with portals ™. Well. Correction. He could think with portals, but he just couldn’t shoot them. They ended up playing a taxing game of mario kart that turned into Aziraphale in weeping from laughter at god knows what, he could barely speak between fits. Crowley paused the game and got az a glass of water. Az tried to drink it without spilling any when the involuntary giggles came.  
He finished and set the glass down on the carpet, tracing his finger around the rim. “You know what we should do?”

“watch breaking bad??” answered crowley very very very enthusiastically.

“I—“ Aziraphale tipped the empty glass over with a thunk, “I was gonna say get drunk, but we could certainly do both?” The “I don’t think I have a choice about watching this” was implied. 

Crowley balked. “Drunk? I don’t even have any alco……wait………..”

Aziraphale smirked. 

“the Super Secret Stash,” crowley whispered. “to be used only for emergencies. Like emotional breakdowns. _Or when you break into my apartment when you’re bored and you know I’m out_.”

Aziraphale got very solemn. “How did you know about that.”

“I left a freaking wooden chip in the door like they do in the movies to know when someone breaks in. Every time i have found the chip on the floor, exactly one bottle of beer went missing from the stash. And you’re the only one who knows about it. Conclusions were reached.”

Aziraphale opened his mouth and then closed it when no words came out. 

“Forget about it,” said crowley, and both of them retrieved several bottles of alcoholic beverages from an old box at the back of crowley’s pantry. Crowley went for the champagne. Aziraphale grabbed a case of coors light. Bastard.


End file.
